-OUTSIDE RIKUU'S APARTMENT COMPLEX, KITA WARD, SAPPORO-
-6:02 PM, DECEMBER 24, 2016-
The sky had already darkened.
Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting pale gold circles onto snow-covered pavement.
Ichika stepped carefully down the narrow stairwell behind Rikuu.
Neither spoke at first.
The apartment door had closed softly behind them. His grandmother had fallen asleep before they left — knitting resting loosely in her lap.
Rikuu stopped at the entrance of the building.
"I'll walk you to the station."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
She didn't argue.
They began walking side by side along the quiet street. Snow crunched beneath their steps. The cold felt sharper now.
Or maybe it was just the silence.
After a few minutes, Rikuu finally spoke.
"She liked you."
Ichika looked up at him.
"I liked her too."
He nodded faintly.
"She doesn't say things she doesn't mean."
"I could tell."
Another stretch of quiet.
Then—
"…You weren't uncomfortable," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"No."
"Not even a little?"
She considered her answer carefully.
"I was nervous," she admitted. "Because I wanted her to accept me."
He glanced at her.
"She already did."
Ichika smiled softly.
"Then I'm relieved."
They reached a small intersection near the train station entrance. The glow from vending machines reflected on the snow.
Rikuu stopped walking.
She stopped too.
Cars passed in the distance.
"…Komori."
Her heart beat a little faster.
"Yes?"
He didn't look at her immediately.
"I don't have much."
She didn't interrupt.
"You saw that."
"Yes."
"My world isn't clean. It's not stable. I fight in alleys. I barely keep things together."
Her chest tightened slightly.
"But," he continued, voice steady, "when you were there… it didn't feel small."
The air between them shifted.
"I've never brought anyone home," he admitted. "Because if they leave after seeing it, I'd rather not know."
Ichika's breath caught.
"I'm not leaving."
He finally looked at her.
"Don't answer too fast."
"I'm not," she replied. "I've thought about it."
Snow drifted between them.
Soft.
Persistent.
Rikuu stepped a little closer.
"Earlier," he said quietly, "you told my grandmother you wanted to stand beside me."
"Yes."
"…Do you still?"
She didn't hesitate this time.
"Yes."
The word was steady.
Sure.
His jaw tightened slightly, like he was holding back something heavier than pride.
"I don't know how to do this perfectly," he said.
"I don't need perfect."
"I might mess up."
"Then we fix it."
"I might not always be able to protect you."
"I'm not asking you to."
He exhaled slowly.
Then—
"…Then let's stop pretending this is unclear."
Her pulse quickened.
Rikuu's voice dropped just slightly.
"I like you."
She smiled faintly. "You've said that."
"I know."
He took another small step forward.
"But this time, I'm saying it properly."
Her breath warmed in the cold air between them.
"I like you, Ichika."
Her name sounded different in his voice.
Less distant.
More certain.
"And I don't want you to just stand beside me."
He swallowed.
"I want you with me."
The world seemed to quiet.
Train announcements echoed faintly from underground.
Snow fell between streetlights.
Ichika's eyes shimmered, but she didn't cry.
She simply stepped closer.
Close enough that their coats brushed.
"I'm with you," she said softly.
A pause.
Then she added—
"Rikuu Arakawa, will you be my boyfriend?"
His eyes widened slightly.
"…You're supposed to let me ask that."
"You were taking too long."
For the first time that night—
He laughed.
Soft.
Real.
Then his expression settled.
Serious.
"Yes," he answered.
The word felt final.
Grounded.
"I will."
For a moment, neither moved.
Then, carefully—
Rikuu reached for her hand.
Not hesitant.
Not testing.
Certain.
Their fingers intertwined fully this time.
No space left.
Snow continued falling around them.
Cold air.
Warm hands.
And in the middle of Sapporo's winter—
Ice had learned to burn.
Not wildly.
Not destructively.
But steadily.
And for the first time—
They weren't "not official."
They weren't "almost."
They weren't "uncertain."
They were together.